


First steps

by Susamo



Series: The Adventures of the young Gos athor Atlan da Gonozal [4]
Category: Perry Rhodan - Various Authors
Genre: Alternate Reality, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:40:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24705469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Susamo/pseuds/Susamo
Summary: Young Atlan da Gonozal, the Crystal Prince of his people of Arkon, has escaped the ship of his abductors and landed upon a planet called Tela-vhelor, a backwater colonial world where he intends to hide for now and find a way to call for help. But that proves to be more difficult than he had hoped. The murderers of his nurse and his bodyguard, and the entire crew of his father's ship, have followed him downworld and obviously are in league with the government of that world unknown to him. In order to avoid the search parties out for him, he decides to take on the identity of a shader merchant's son whose ship has exploded only recently, according to the Service news Atlan has read clandestinely. He must find a place for himself upon Tela-vhelor and must look for allies upon the shady side of the planet's society, following the age-old dictum that whoever is my enemy's enemy, might be my friend. So he takes the first step into a new identity and a new life under a mask, while upon Arkon, the homeworld, an investigation is underway to find him, and the ones who instigated that act of terrorism, and the political repercussions of events slowly come to light.
Series: The Adventures of the young Gos athor Atlan da Gonozal [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753825
Comments: 7
Kudos: 1





	First steps

**Author's Note:**

> A thrai is a flightless huge bird, eating carrion as well as hunting for fresh meat, sporting sharp talons, and a sharper beak. To call anyone a thrai is insulting and means a corrupt and detestable person. An even harder insult is to call someone a susse-thrai. That being is taken from Star Trek, originally living upon Romulus-Ch'Rihan-where it depicts something much nobler. But we are upon Arkon, where one thinks of a carrion-stinking and malicious animal!
> 
> A yoner-madrul, in short, a Yon, is a doctor and physician (literally someone who slits open someone's stomach. It is a most ancient word.)
> 
> Arkon is the name of the central system of the Arkonides and their Empire, the Tai Ark'Tussan, as well as the name of their homeworld. Actually there are three planets circling the Arkon Sun upon the same equatorial orbit in an isosceles triangle, Gos Ranton, the Crystal World for living, Mehan'Ranton, the world of Trade, and Gor'Ranton, the world of War. The governmental center upon Gos Ranton is the Thek'Laktran, the Hill of the Wise, with its center, the Gos Khasurn, the Crystal Palace. Further data upon the home system of the Arkonath can be found at Perrypedia, the Wiki site serving the Perry Rhodan universe.
> 
> A khasurn originally is a flower, the Arkon giant lotus, narrow at the stem and opening outwards at the top in the form of a calyx. From that, the Arkonides have taken the name for a noble family and the word they give to their ancestral family palaces, which are built according to the shape of a khasurn bloom. Traditionally there is a fountain or a small pond in the center, surrounded by a garden and hanging gardens going up. The Crystal Palace follows the same pattern and has a glittering white crystalline facade to be seen from afar.
> 
> Among the nobility, there are the Kator Khasurnai, of lower nobility, the Tai Khasurnai of the higher nobility, and the Thi Khasurnai of the highest nobility. The noblest of the noble are called the Eldrith houses.
> 
> Upon Arkonath measurement of time, see my notes on previous works.
> 
> Normally a noble will be called "da"-"of". So actually the name of Crest, Atlan's father, would be Crest da Gononzal. But since the da Gonozal are the Imperial Family while a scion of theirs is Tai Moas, the Imperator, only he is named "da", since he is "da Arkon". The Imperial Family holds the Tecca, the Imperial Flag, and as long as the Imperator is of their house the members of the Gonozal khasurn are named "tec' " instead of "da".
> 
> A Yilld is a kind of dragon, of which species there are three kinds still in existence in zoos and natural parks, the rock yilld, the sand yilld, and the yilld of the snow. Yillds are found upon heraldic crests and have given rise to many proverbs and expressions in the Arkonath language and culture.
> 
> "To direct from the Bench" is an allusion to Arkonath theatre with the so-called Tashmayim puppets, a form of theatre that can be compared to Japanese Bunraku. It means to manipulate from the background, more or less hidden from sight.
> 
> "To walk in both worlds" means to "walk both sides of the Sword". Arkonath philosophy has it that the asa' nan sahín, the "straight path forward", meaning fate and the path the life of every person takes, is pictured by a sword turning tip over hilt through space, cutting out that person's way. That sword has two sides, opposing each other and being each other's contrary, War and Peace, Life and Death, Light and Dark, Truth and Illusion. Yet the two opposites are joined by the Edge of the Sword that "turns three (the Edge and the Two Sides) to one (the Sword of Fate itself). Most people can only see one side of the Sword at a time. But Love walks both sides and turns three into one. So does harshest experience that not only gives knowledge but makes a person wise.

First Steps

Yagthara and Merikana had retreated, to be a consolation to each other, and everybody else had been sent away as well to their various tasks, to leave the three brothers alone with each other. Only their aides still waited in the anteroom.

Crest stared ahead, perhaps calculating fleet deployment plans in his mind, and Cunor looked down to the floor unseeing, turning his glass of Nettoruna wine in his hand around and around.

“This whole calamity comes from our eminent father’s misjudgment and obstinacy”, Upoc said grimly and got up to serve himself from the decanter standing upon the side-table.  
At that his brothers looked up, frowning or questioning.

Crest’s lips quirked in a mirthless smile. He understood his composer brother’s utterance well enough, yes.

“The House Alliance with Orcast which he so hard-headedly pursued has put the whole Calyx da Gonozal, and the three of us and our families, into a very hard place and now into jeopardy. Mother told him about the risks he ran, and he would not hear her. Now the consequences of that misguided action and Alliance come home to us.”

“I was very happy with Farnathia”, Cunor da Gonozal softly said, looking down again.

Upoc laughed shortly.

“Yes, so you were, and I will not say a single word against her, who did the best she could and would have made you a good Imperatrix-if she had lived. Her only fault was that she was too young and naïve and that she acted in the interests of Orcast first, forgetting that she had become a Gonozal-but that is a course of action one has to expect of Orcast upbringing, hasn’t one? And so our father should have expected too. But no, Orcast it had to be and none other-and now we are stuck with old Ramoros still, who has not given up his plan to marry Farnathia's younger sister Althrita to you, dear brother. She is not even contracted to anyone else yet-you see old Ramoros’s obstinacy.”

With a grim compression of his lips, Upoc turned away and half downed his glass.

Cunor’s brow was creased, but he did not gainsay his brother’s words. It was seldom that calm and quiet Upoc would so openly and harshly express his thoughts. But when he did he almost always was right-as he was now.

“Your decision not to humour him or implement that ill-judged and ill-fated Alliance was right, I think”, Upoc continued in a softer voice, his long Escanth’s robe swinging as he turned back to face both his younger and his elder brother. “As it is, the Alliance still is in abeyance and serving both Gonozal and Orcast well enough. That family’s scions are well educated and loyal and very competent, across the board, serving you and the Tai Ark’Tussan most well, Cunor. No-one has to regret it that they advanced to their posts. “

Crest grimaced.

“The problem is old Ramoros, of course, as he has been it and as he still is, and his thrai of a wife. Mathamnara da Orcast has not let up plotting schemes and dealing left and right undercover since she was eight, I think, and is at it still, no matter that even she had to tone it down. Minterol still is murderous enemies with Orcast, and so is Thagmanir-and less than half of our Eldrith houses are well or even neutrally disposed to the Orcast Khasurn, and with reason. Father truly should have taken that fact into consideration.”

Cunor sighed and turned his wrist.

“You are both right”, he said,” and I will not dispute your opinion. But that doesn’t change the situation we are in now.”

“No.” Upoc put down the glass and sat in the chair facing his brothers.

“The solution you found, settling with Thyri as your mistress, was the best one possible, I believe, and has kept all the other Eldrith houses from becoming alienated from us, and has kept Orcast bound without us having obligations-the best possible solution under the circumstances our father handed to you, brother. Yet it has left you without an heir of your body.”

Agreeing his brothers turned their wrists. They did not say out loud that Upoc, too, had had to forego marrying and having children according to the family agreement to have Atlan be the Crystal Prince. At least he was very happy and well content with his Acknowledged Companion Asmayra irin Tharoc, a woman born a commoner which Upoc, under any other circumstances, could not have had by his side, a fact which had reconciled him well to Cunor’s decision.

Cunor da Gonozal sighed. “We all thought that it was best to put our hopes upon Atlan the way he was shaping up, and we were right in that, I know it-and neither have we easily and lightly settled upon that arrangement. We have discussed it often enough. But it has left our family vulnerable and has made a target of our Gos athor-not that I would have thought that anyone ever would aim at him, or could pull through such a plan as we have seen it carried out now. The day before yesterday all of this would have been unthinkable.”

He looked down, looked up again to face his youngest brother.

“Crest, I am so sorry”, he said.

The Tai Mascant only inclined his head, taking a deep breath.

“Our musings, as much to the point as they are, do not help my son now”, he said in a firm and cold voice. 

“We must decide upon measures now, and about what-and how much-of this catastrophe we will tell to the public, and to the Court. As far as I can see nothing of the events can be hushed with the measures we will have to take with the investigations carried out at the Thek Laktran and among many of the Thi Khasurns, most of them Eldrith. They will go along without protest, I hope, if they see that all of them-even our own family and associations-are treated in the same way and if they know the full why and what for of the investigation.”

Upoc laughed shortly and harshly again.

“Apart, of course, of the sandworms coming to light lurking under stones, wriggling too slowly to escape the sudden glare of the sun”, he threw in. “Our dear Mathamnara will dislike this investigation dearly for the sake of all the things else that might be uncovered, and will protest most fiercely.”

The Imperator his brother got a small tight smile upon his lips for a moment.

“Well, then, if that is not an opportunity to hunt for worms which we should not miss”, he retorted. “She will be meeker, and more tamed, after, and refrain from making trouble for some time.”

“You mean for half a tonta?” Crest asked, trying for a bit of bitter humour in spite of his anxiousness and worry and fear for his son, and his bitter sorrow for the people who had died upon the Tondon.

Cunor da Gonozal gave a half-laugh and put down his glass at long last. “At least that, yes. But-“ he became serious and looked over at Upoc.

“You know, Upoc, that both our Companions will be in the center of everyone’s immediate suspicions? Even if Asmayra would not have a single chance to get a marriage contract from you, no matter what, there will be those who will suspect her of exactly that ambition. And as to Thyri-she is my Mayth’ Dol Fam, not even my Acknowledged Companion which I cannot have as the Tai Moas that I am-either I am married or I have a mistress, for me, there’s no way in between as you at least have it, Upoc.  
But Thyri is a Fhalmakir, who are at least a Kator-Khasurn of On-Moas rank, and though everyone knows that even with a major elevation they cannot become Eldrith and therefore are not of a rank fitting to choose my wife from, there will be those who will accuse her of having her hand in this, and I’ll lay any bet that that snake-headed Orcast thrai will be the first to say so. She has too much interest invested in getting me parted from Thyri at long last and getting me to accept Althrita-though I do not mind the girl, she’s old enough now, but she doesn’t have the Ark Summia and, first of all, she is Orcast’s only daughter now, and I will never marry an Orcast again, not under a Maahkath gun’s threatening.”

The brothers smiled mirthlessly.

“You can lay that bet also that Ramoros and Mathamnara are fully aware of this your reluctance, Cunor”, Crest said in an ironic tone. Of course, how not, after almost fifteen years since Farnathia da Gonozal na Orcast had died in that terrible accident.

“I wonder-“ Upoc threw in, slowly and in a low tone. His brothers turned their attention upon him.

“Yes?” the Imperator asked when the silence lengthened.

“I wonder-Thyri is in Althrita’s way, meaning, in da Orcast’s as such. But so is Atlan. Only for his sake, we have decided to have no other children born to the family for at least till he has got the Ark Summia, to have no –one else to dispute his rank as the Crystal Prince or to take the pressure of being the only one off him, which contributes so much drive and motivation to his efforts and his development and success, as the psychologists tell us, and as we see ourselves. That you would not marry an Orcast, Cunor, is clear to us, but-as we see, it is not clear to Ramoros or Mathamnara, who never lose an opportunity to put poor Althrita to the fore. As matters stand, therefore, and as the political situation is among the Khasurnai, and in particular in regard to Orcast-you cannot easily marry an Eldrith lady at all who either is not of Orcast or, worse, who is! So you will stick to Thyri, as you have said, and will not marry at all, not because of Atlan, but because of Orcast-but Orcast doesn’t understand that, nor would they accept it, or leave off trying to change your mind. For them Atlan very much is a reason for you to keep off marrying-a legitimate son of yours would automatically become the Crystal Prince in his stead, wouldn’t he? And old Ramoros would, given the mother is his Althrita, be the grandfather of the next Imperator as he has wanted to be all his life, and so has the thrai hoped to be a grandmother to the next Tai Moas.

What if-what if these two in truth are the ones behind this assault and the murders upon the Tondon?”

Crest and Cunor stared at their composer brother speechless.

“I know that no one of us ever would have put such actions as they have taken place upon the Tondon past even the Orcast pack. But we would not have put treason like that past anyone at the Thek Laktran or the Thi Khasurn houses; and yet we know for certain that someone from these circles must be the traitor and assassin-and if I must believe this of anyone, the easiest I could believe it of would be the snake-headed thrai and her ubiquitous shalluc mate.”

Uh oh. Crest grimaced slightly. Upoc was using quite expressive vocabulary-their brother was at the end of his patience, though no-one who knew him less closely would have suspected that from Upoc’s still calm mien.

“We will have Mekron investigate most closely-but upon that track I shall set him. The possibility is there.”

Cocking his head slightly the Imperator looked at his Escanth brother and added, in an almost too calm tone: “And if it were Asmayra-would you step back, brother, and let her be sentenced to death?”

Looking straight back into his elder brother’s gaze Upoc tec’Gonozal replied as calmly: “Yes, of course. Would you-if it were Thyri?”

“Yes.” Cunor da Gonozal’s lips compressed shortly. Then he exhaled deeply and sat back a little.

“And never have I been gladder with knowing that it cannot be her, or Asmayra, at that. Both of them, and their families, know us too well and know that neither one of them has a chance to ever get a marriage contract from you or me-we are politically astute enough to never try such a coup with law and Court.”

Agreeing Upoc turned his wrist, inclining his head, and exhaled too. The tension that had crept into his shoulders eased up again. But the question had had to be asked.

“So-da Orcast.” Crest came back to the previous topic.

“Hearing of any investigation going against her or her Khasurn the thrai will protest most sharply, and we know the reasons why. If she has bloodied her hands with this-“ he took a deep breath, having to compose himself-“ then she will have seen to it that no direct trace can be found leading to her or her husband. This thrai doesn’t feed near to her nest.”

Cunor snapped his fingers, agreeing. “It would have been Geltoschan or Poltor, or another of the minor Calyxes associated with them to have done the actual deeds”, he said. “Yet the original manipulations, and the data feed, would have had to come from da Orcast himself and would be provable-if we dig hard enough.”

Crest sighed, going with his fingers through his hair and throwing back his head a little.

“If we do that-and we will have to-the scandal at Court will be perfect. The uproar not only from Orcast but also from Zoltral-we all know their pride-or from Ragnaari, who will expect to be exempt from any suspicion because of mother, and because Atlan is of their blood too through her,-Gods, domestic politics will be out of balance for Votani after this. Yet I do not see how we can avoid starting those investigations. We must, or we do not have a single chance to find my son. I-“

His voice went, and for a moment he hid his face in his hands. His shoulders shook, then he had found self-control again and raised his head once more, giving his brothers, who looked at him with compassion and understanding, gaze for gaze.

“Whoever this assassin and terrorist is-he is extremely clever, and bent on a suicidal trail he-or she-doesn’t care about, apparently. He put himself into extreme jeopardy by making it clear to us where the culprit must come from, and he-or she-must and will be found eventually and will be executed. But till that time the havoc he creates goes to the maximum level and beyond with making the whole Thek-Laktran suspect. It seems to me that this assassin knows fully well which kind of domestic political trouble he is creating by announcing his origin, -he must know by the rank and standing he-or she-must have, and it seems that this trouble at the Thek-Laktran is fully intended, is meant to be part of this whole assault.  
Yet I do not understand-a suicide attacker, among the people of the Thek Laktran? Could it be that the assassin, no matter how capable or powerful he has proven to be, is under severe duress himself, or influenced somehow?”

Helplessly his brothers turned up their open hands. They had a lot of questions, but no answers to give. Yet.

Crest grimaced.

“So an all-out investigation of the Thek-Laktran it will be”, he sighed. “With us and our families and associates as the spearhead and the example to appease whatever indignation other Khasurns might feel, and might the Gods help us that da Orcast and the other Eldrith houses will be compliant.”

“Yes.” Cunor da Gonozal’s gaze met with the looks of his brothers.

“And, what about the public? What can, or must, we tell our peoples, and what should better stay concealed?” Crest asked.

Cunor flipped back his head and hand, denying. 

“There will not be any gagging order sent to the media and the journalists”, he said firmly.

“To get our Eldrith to cooperate we will have to show and demonstrate the full extent of this catastrophe and attack, and that means that the information will leak out-sooner or later. To get back at us the snake-headed thrai will see to that herself if we haven’t made the data official knowledge before. I understand that you worry about public unrest and our peoples feeling endangered if such a thing can happen to our Gos athor-but, sorry, the events are true and will become public knowledge. If we hold back on information and only tell a part of what happened people will feel betrayed by their government as well-the abduction of the Gos athor under such bloody and devastating circumstances is not only a personal catastrophe to us his family but also an assault at the whole of the Tai Ark’Tussan. Let us give the people confidence in us back at least in this that we show them how we trust them-it will let them trust us the better and appeal to their feelings of loyalty. If we do this right we will gain the support of our peoples and closing of our ranks instead of confusion and fear and the feeling of being threatened. It is as simple as that.”

“Gods. Simple.” Crest was hiding his face in his hands again. Upoc laid his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“We are with you and Yagthara, you know that, Crest”, he softly said. “Your loss is ours-literally. Asmayra is notified and already is on her way to your apartment-Yagthara will be glad of her understanding support no less than she is of her sister Merikana's. We stand together in this as we always have done, and do so now the more.  
I am sure that mother will come out of her retreat also on this news-her presence will be of invaluable support to us and will silence the Orcasts effectively and get them to cooperate. She is Atlan’s grandmother and no less affected-and under her gaze Ragnaari will be compliant and understanding as well-our Ragnaari cousins are well disposed to us, you know that. Together we stand.”

The quote of the first line of the Tai Ark’Tussan’s official hymn brought a tiny smile to Crest tec’Gonozal’s lips.

No, Yagthara and he were not alone with their fear and their grief and anger. Gods, if he but could reach out to touch his son’s hand, finding him wherever he was, and tell him that he was not alone either, that his father and uncles did whatever they could to find him and free him-Gods, Atlan, thay-  
But the boy would know that anyway. If he could still know anything after what he must have seen and been witness to, of course…

Drowsily Atlan turned on the seats of the tiny craft and then woke with a start. How much time had gone by? Had anyone found him?  
But no, everything was as it had been. In here the light coming from the panels was the same as it had been when he exhaustedly had fallen asleep.

The young prince scrambled up and sat, yawning, and reached for the water box. A trip to the ‘fresher cell of the lifeboat was necessary also; cleaning facilities were scant but adequate. For lack of room, there was no shower, but the sonic scrubber pad worked as well and made the boy feel relatively clean again. In the Crystal Palace, of course, he always had had the luxury of washing and showering with fresh water-one understood luxury only when one was missing it, the old dictum was astoundingly true.

Grimacing Atlan looked at himself in the screen serving as a mirror. He had decided to impersonate a merchanter orphan named Cunor Lant’cer, from a ship named Lirela, out of Lepso-that captain had had shady dealings enough, the Golamo report had said. Its destruction was likely to be an accident, no survivors.  
So he could easily say that he was the only survivor of a family feud, or better, of the victim of fights among criminal organizations.

That ship-and its captain, a certain Aloroy-had had some record with the Public Welfare Service of Lepso and its chief Ehrett Jammun and had been tailed by the reporting Golamo agent right through a Berlon at Orbana, the capital of the free-trading world of Lepso. Shady dealings for sure,-Aloroy, then, would be his father’s name.

The young prince gave himself a joyless smile. Some career, that, from being the Crystal Prince of the Realm to impersonating the son of a Mehan’Zarak, a Shady Dealer, a Shadow Trader. But he had to impersonate someone whose origins could not be proven and looked into by simply querying public data banks or Imperial governmental data. Any law-abiding citizen was registered and had a family that could be called. A Shady Dealer, though, did not, them keeping any knowledge about themselves and their families private.

So Lirela it was, and Aloroy Lant’cer-anyone else’s name from that ship had not been mentioned. So he better kept to names he would react to-Lesanna, then, for his mother’s name, and Kel for an elder brother. Taneth’s name he did not dare take into his fabricated family story-he, as a Thantan of the Empire, was too public a figure.

Atlan swallowed and had to breathe deeply to get the sudden tremor in his gut under control. His hands stopped shaking. Good. The emotional upheaval-he took a look at the timer- more than thirteen tontas ago had gotten a lot of tension out of him and made him fitter now to deal with his situation and confront other people unhindered by emotional stress.

Or less hindered. The boy took another shaking breath and had to swallow down sudden tears when he thought of Lesena, disapprovingly shaking her head at his appearance.  
Tremulously he smiled back at himself and told her that he would have to look even less orderly in his disguise as a merchanter boy, sorry, Mam-yes, that was the mehan’ word for a mother, as Tad was the one for a father. 

Gods, he never had been gladder for his slipping into GolamoNet, having filched so much data and information he was not supposed to know about for years. Kelta had taught him Service Slang as well-that his father had known about, and laughed at, as he had laughed at the few mehan’ phrases and words his son had quoted now and then, thinking him to have caught them from vid series.

Rhegar da Khilmerol, the brave Tu-ra-cel agent, the heroic Celista, in truth was meeting several Shades and mehan’zaraks in the story, and they were using some of these phrases. But Crest tec’ Gonozal would have been astounded at the knowledge his son had gained else from Golamo reports, swear-words and abuse in abundance strewn in as well.  
Atlan grimaced again. The Gos athor da Tai Ark’Tussan was confident enough that he successfully could play a shady merchanter boy, oh yes. With this Mask on he never would be suspected to be the Crystal Prince by anyone, and that was all that counted, now, was it?

He had no masker kit to truly change and disguise himself, and alter the shape and look of his face. So he had to fall back to simpler means, using hairstyle and clothing, posture and speech to change his appearance. The elegant aristocratic long hair had to go and would have to fall into his face, concealing brow and cheekbones, a wild ruffled disorderly top to a rumpled and smudged and disorderly figure. That would do most of the trick, he hoped, going by what he had been taught in his Golamo courses, doing Rooms, and the game of Who am I?

So, clothes-that was the next step. Under the seats, he had spied several changes of simple suits, consisting of unisex trousers and shirts and jackets. There were no boots, which meant that he had to cover his own elegant footwear and dirty it as well as he could. Thanks be to Daremmol, the god of merchants, clever dealing and cunning, he had not yet put on his dress uniform with its high boots when the Tondon had been attacked. The low ones would half disappear beneath trousers drawn over them, making them almost look like shoes. Changing into the smallest suit he could find the young prince looked at himself again in the screen. The fit was not perfect-he had to turn the trousers in at the seams two times because they were too long, and the same went for the shirt sleeves. 

The jacket sleeves he turned up generously to form a sleeve ending a hand span below the elbow, letting the shirt be seen all the way to the wrists. Mehandor fashion, this was, and even Daremmol wore such garb in his depiction and statue at the grotto of the She’Huan, the gods of the stars, at the side of the Thek-Laktran, the Hill of the Wise, where he had lived all his life, knowing little else-

Gods. The young prince had to swallow again. Out there was another world, a world following rules and natural laws he did not know, where everything was alien. There was no Denios da Pert now who could have told him how to behave and what to do, or a Kelta who would have protected him and watched his back, giving him cues, or a Lesena who would have hugged him and made him feel safe and loved-he was all alone, and his mother and father, his uncles and aunts and cousins, and beloved old grandmother Seliya-they loved him well, all of them, but they were far, far away. Too far to be reached, too far even to be called without the greatest risk. 

But to find that way to call them, and get back home, and to defy the murderers and their allies on the way, was his duty now, and disreputable shady Cunor Lant’cer, just having lost ship and family in a bloody fight-as he had in truth, and which event could explain all reactions of his like tears or shaking or the like-would have to get on his way.

The combination of clothes still looked a bit too neat for the role he would be playing.

With firm resolve, Atlan rumpled the shirt and tucked it back in quite disorderly, which had its effect to make him look far less proper. Good. Now to his hair. Taking the vibro-knife which he had found with the survival kit stowed under the seats he threw his hair forward and cut off most of the long tresses which had fallen below his shoulders. This haircut, ragged and not at all perfect, made his hair end somewhere below the ears, at chin length. The bangs falling into his face now he cut off as raggedly just below the brow and around his cheeks, and which, with tousling them some more, covered a lot of his face as it was known to the people of the Tai Ark’Tussan on vid.

Yes, he looked older somehow, his face looking longer and thinner, narrower. There were faint lines between nose and mouth-when had they appeared, the boy wondered, looking at himself with new eyes. Grimacing he stared back at himself. Indeed, he was changed, and it would take a lot of fantasy to recognize the Crystal Prince in him.

With a sigh, he turned to the discarded suit of the Crystal Prince then. There it lay, white hose and creamy shirt, light-red jacket with the unmistakable emblem of the Gos athor da Arkon on both collar and breast, the rhombus and the Gonozal sun.

But of course, the hose showed little of its original white colour in between the stains, brownish and otherwise, and the jacket was light red no longer, having acquired a darker and brownish hue in most places too.

Lesena, Kelta, Alos-I cannot just leave you like this, burning these clothes and the blood you shed with them, Atlan thought. He wanted a memento-he needed it, a small piece at least to hold on to, something which still would prove to him that there was another world, that he had come from a happy and secure life and would return there-though everything would be changed when he came home or rather, he was changed, irreparably, even now.

Setting his teeth against another bout of weeping he took the vibro-knife and cut off a hand-covering piece of the sleeve, where he knew Kelta’s and Lesena’s, and at least Alos’s, blood to have seeped in.

Then he took his Crystal Prince’s clothes outside and carried them out of the power plant to avoid fire alarm, and used the laser cutter from the tool kit of the lifeboat to set fire to his elegant suit. It burned with some smoke, but not too much, like a death offering to the dead of the Tondon, which it even technically was, with so much of their blood having drenched that suit. Atlan knelt and sat back upon his heels, and closed his eyes to pray to Famathra, the goddess of death. He laid his sorrow into her hands as best he could, knowing that the pitcher at her feet contained the bitter water of tears, and committed the dead of his father’s ship into her care. 

He found he could not lay his hands upon the ground, forgiving the murderers. Instead, he kept them open upon his lap, offering his sorrow to the goddess-Gods, so much sorrow that almost was cutting his heart in two. He had realized fully now what had happened, and that Lesena or Kelta never would come back. Bitter anger and a wish for revenge burned deep down in his heart, the young prince suddenly knew, a feeling he had not experienced before, ever. 

Lowering his head he thought of his nurse and his bodyguard, and his guard people, and hoped they had already started on their way to Thiath, the Highest Power, going on and perhaps coming back someday, if their fate and the asa nan sahin would allow that. Famathra would guide them, and show them the way.

The suit left no trace upon the earth among the green grass of Tela-vhelor but a black smudge of soot that the young prince obliterated with his boot as best he could, scratching up earth and covering the stain. This way there was no trace left of who it had been who had landed with that lifeboat. He was as anonymous now as milliards of other people in the Tai Ark’Tussan were.  
And he had to get on his way.

Tucking the precious piece of cloth into the innermost pocket of the shirt the boy went back to the boat, grimly determined to find some devices there he could trade off for money and an ID. They would have to be small so he could carry them in the duffel he had found under the seats also; for weapons, he had nothing but that vibro-knife, but no matter. Anyone who could sell a fake ID to him could also sell him a small needler gun. Without weapons, he would not be able to deal with the criminals he expected to have to face, men who were allies of the terrorists who had kidnapped him.

The matter was done swifter than he had thought; the welder and the cutter helped a lot to disembowel the cockpit, which yielded a very good tracker and a radio worth its price. The data crystal of that radio the young prince put away as safely as the one he had gotten from the murderer’s ship, along with the pulse key. These were his most precious possessions now which might lead him to his enemies.

A mass taster and the steering device, complete with its small positronic pad, went into the duffel as well. More the boy could not carry easily, he would have to walk far on foot without having any money for transportation. Four ration bars and a full water box went in as well, and then Cunor Lant’cer was ready to face Tela-vhelor, the planet of the oily season.

They met in one of the conference rooms of the Gos Khasurn, protected by the tightest security possible: Imperator Gonozal homénn, the Tai Moas of his people, Crest his brother the Tai Mascant and First commander of the Fleet after him, and Mekron kel`Dermitron, chief of the Golamo and all the Services of the Tai Ark’Tussan.  
Each of them had brought an aide, laden with crystals and stacks of dataplast. There was Arctamon da Quertamagin, personal consultant of His Eminence concerning internal politics-his immediate superior, minister of the Interior Frantomor kel’ Falthaym, was not present yet. He had gone to meet several provincial governors in a conference to discuss most important matters upon Zalit, and though he had been called so urgently he had not been able to cancel that conference, he had but shortened the discussion and was on his flight back.

Crest had brought Tervonol da Meleyn, a Thek’Athor, his second at Fleet High Command, the Ark’Thektran, who was a most experienced and very capable elder man.  
With Mekron kel’Dermitron Ivsera kel’ Relláan had come, head of the Tu-ra-cel, directly answerable only to the Imperator and Mekron when he acted as head-in-chief of all the Services, as he did now.

They took their places around the circular table, the small positronic screens opened up in front of each of them.

Only two items had to be discussed: the search for Atlan, the Gos athor, and the measures to be taken concerning that search, together with the best lines of action.  
What was the public to know? Should there be any restrictions upon information, and were they possible at all, or advisable?

One thing was clear from the start: the abduction of the Crystal Prince was a terrible catastrophe. And just as disastrous was what emerged from that deed: now, in the midst of what was beginning to be called the Tai Akh’Gor, the Great Terrible War, when the whole of the Tai Ark’Tussan stood shoulder to shoulder as it never had done before, and as it simply had to do for the pure survival of all its peoples-now there was someone, with no matter which goal, who would inflict such damage upon the Empire. In fact, the only ones not detrimentally affected by this were Arkon’s enemies, the Maahks!

But the murderers and abductors had been Arkonath people, as much was certain, and so must be the one whose information and manipulations had made the assault upon the Tondon possible at all-actually that one had to be a person working at or belonging to a family living at the Thek-Laktran. 

For that person his or her attack at Arkon was twice suicidal-because he or she would be found and executed, and because the harm he or she did was directed at the Tai Moas and his family directly, and at the government of the Tai Ark’Tussan, benefiting only the Maahks, in the long run.

Knowing that one had such an enemy sitting so near to one’s heart, who must be a madman, was very disturbing in addition to the harm that enemy already had done, a silent threat constantly looming over the whole of the Gos Khasurn and the Thek Laktran.

“Who are they? Where are they? What have they got?” Imperator Gonozal the seventh quoted, looking sharply at every man and woman in the room in turn.

“Where is clear, and poses a great problem in itself. Practically every one of a certain rank and importance living or working at the Thek-Laktran-or the Ark’Thektran, at that-is under suspicion. On simple logic, I dare to exempt myself and Crest, as being the ones directly attacked and having no motif out of the lack of any advantage one of us would gain. But Upoc my brother has already pointed out to me that both our companions might be said to have ambitions that might be served by Atlan’s disappearance. We all know that any ambitions at marriage for Thyri on Fhalmakir or Asmayra irin Tharoc, even if they had them, would go frustrated. But the public doesn’t know that, and neither would those who might take the opportunity of going at Thyri unmolested miss the chance of accusing at least her.”

Cunor da Gonozal compressed his lips.

“With respect, Your Eminence”, Mekron kel’Dermitron said, “even His Highness Escanth Upoc might be said to have a motive. The mad savagery of the murders upon the Tondon is a message in itself, and one with several layers.  
It says that the assassins have no compunction whatsoever about killing people of the highest rank and near to you personally, Your Eminence. It tells us that the murderers will not be stopped by anything, and have the means necessary to get at your closest family.  
And it expresses profound emotions-hate and an overwhelming will to hurt and do harm to you personally, Your Eminence, as much as possible, and to your closest family.”

“And what, please, Mekron, does that savagery have to do with a possible motive of our brother’s, pray?” Crest tec’Gonozal threw in sharply. 

The Golamo chief smiled mirthlessly. “Only this, that beneath quiet waters the volcano might be waiting to go up”, he answered. “Thi Khasurn nobles easily harbour the prejudice that the ambition of commoners who have been raised up above their station is without limit. Some might compare to themselves concerning ambition, of course.  
Now it is easy, as you have said yourself, Your Eminence, to suspect the Escantha irin Tharoc of very high-reaching ambitions, and you say that they would go frustrated. But can you trust your brother to do as you would if he had the chance at last to realize a wish of his deepest heart which you, zhdopanthi, have denied him up to now, and which would be so natural-to marry and to have children? You have decided to forego that chance for yourself, and so you can as it is every man’s right to choose as he would see fit. But you refusing Orcast and settling with zhdopan Thyri is one thing- while it is another one entirely to deny your brother what his younger brother was allowed to have because you and he decided that Atlan was going to be the best possible Gos athor and that no other son of an actually higher-ranking uncle than his father must stand in his way! You, ta-moas zhdopanda Crest, are the Tai Mascant of the Fleet and act as spokesman for the Gonozal family, dealing with the media, and very much stand in the light and gaze of the public. Your elder brother, though, is just a privateer, so to say, even though he is an Escanth of Iprasa and teaching music there, granted-no-one would deny his genius, of course-but doesn’t he have to stay in the Shadow while his younger brother and his nephew get all the attention and stand in the light, and he, upon the orders of his elder brother the Tai Moas must surrender all of this and doesn’t even get to have a family of his own?  
He is an artist and not interested in a public post or work for the state, as is his Companion, as we all have heard him say now and again, and very happy with this arrangement. But perhaps he only says so because you have ordered him to declare that, zhdopanthi, and the truth of his heart is a quite different one? And aren’t artists very emotional people in general, with great passions in their hearts, which makes ta-moas Upoc’s compositions the great works of art they are, the works of a genius? And his Companion is just as great an artist, in her own line of art and work.  
What of the feelings those two might harbour in their hearts, being denied to marry, being forced to stay in the shadow, and be childless? And what kind of emotions, and motive, and will to retaliate and punish has manifested in this so maliciously and well-aimed attack at you, zhdopanthi, and you, ta-moas zhdopanda Crest? And neither are ambitions or access, nor resources or means absent in this case-“

“Gods, Mekron, will you stop!” Crest cried out, torn between rage and anguish.

“Gods, Famathra and Tormana-what kind of the most awful and malicious slander are you quoting now? Zhymathra hear me, Upoc would never do such a thing, and neither would Asmayra! He truly is happy with this arrangement, some aspects of it, like his exemption from duties to the state or of representation he has asked himself of His Eminence, he loves my son almost as much as I do or His Eminence does, his Companion is one of the best friends my wife has, and most of all, for motive-if he wanted to marry and have children he could not marry Escantha irin Tharoc at all but would have to choose a lady from the Eldrith houses and form a House Alliance, which he has been very relieved to be exempt from as well because he has chosen Asmayra to be his Companion for life! Gods, who has come up with that-that-“  
Crest had to take a breath to be able to go on.

“The obvious person of our first choice for malicious gossip and cruel slander, I gather”, the Imperator said, in an even voice but in a very cold tone, his eyes glittering light red with anger. 

“The Orcast net of information works very fast and efficiently, we always have known that. Interesting that the thrai starts with incriminating Upoc instead of Thyri, who must be her prime target. But of course, such an approach would have been too obvious. How far has this slander got as yet?”

Crest was breathing hard and fast, and quite evidently had to fight himself and his emotions to get himself under control again. Cunor had stayed unnaturally calm. His self-control held on.

Wordlessly Mekron kel’Dermitron had turned his wrist at the Imperator’s conclusions and now answered:

“So far only her husband and her closest family, her daughter and the two sons have heard this, called together in a kind of family conference. Althrita seems to be shaping up, by the way, Your Eminence-she was taking part in the discussion quite lively and avidly followed her mother’s lead-and, I am afraid, also her example. The means to spy the Services have are still better than those of house Services, I can report to my satisfaction, though. With this case, you have given me full rein and authorization to use the full power and all the means the Services have, zhdopanthi, and I intend to make use of them in every respect and without any restraint. This is the start only, but we see what this assassin already has accomplished. It will get worse, much worse; and it is also a fact that no-one can deny that this attack was aimed precisely at the two of you and your closest family, zhdopanthi, ta-moas zhdopanda. The lady Lesena was the best friend of the sister of ta-moas zhdopan Yagthara.”

The fact that Mekron kel’Dermitron so pointedly stressed their titles and correct addresses, calling Crest and Yagthara Highnesses, archduke, and archduchess conveyed how this attack would appear in the public and most likely already did.

Mathamnara da Orcast surely was as shocked and dismayed about the attack upon the Crystal Prince of the Realm as was the next man or woman, for Arkon’s sake which still made up the center of her loyalty, and because no matter how much she wanted to be the grandmother of the next Tai Moas she at least bore Atlan no real ill-will she ever would have let show or be known. But she was not the person to let a single chance at pursuing her ends go, and made use of every opportunity she could grab at, as sordid as such an opportunity might be sometimes.

“Upoc was the one who immediately brought up the possibility that da Orcast might have to do with the attacks”, Crest murmured, hiding his face in his hands. “Oh, Gods.” 

That, of course, did not look good now in the face of the slander Mathamnara had begun to spit out. Not that Upoc’s suspicions could have given any probability to da Orcast’s slander in his brothers’ eyes. But it simply was an aspect the Service could not dismiss and at least would have to informally question Upoc about, increasing the pain he felt in his heart for his nephew and brother and sister-in-law. And in reverse, the suspicions voiced by Mathamnara da Orcast now did not diminish the possibility that she was but saying so to deflect attention from her own possible guilt. 

“Da Orcast is in the same awful situation and under the same suspicion as Upoc is, now”, Cunor da Gonozal remarked, his lips quirking up in grim humour. “As some people would pick him to be the first suspect, as we see, some other people-and that crowd is far more numerous-would first glance at da Orcast if the question of “To whose’s gain?” came up-motive, means, resources and the possible disposition of character and ruthlessness are all there, are they not? I can name at least twenty people, on-spot, whom I believe to think about just that possibility right now, and fifteen of them who will have begun to say their ideas out loud.”

Crest sent his brother a long look from the side.

“Says your logic sector”, he commented.

“Says my logic sector”, Cunor confirmed with a small smile. “As must yours.”

“Yes.” Crest tec’Gonozal took a deep breath and went with his fingers through his hair, throwing it back.

“So we know now, thanks to you, Mekron, what to expect of internal politics in the near future. But that doesn’t get us farther with finding the real culprit. Have you found any real tracks and evidence yet?”

“We already have seen that the only ones really to gain from this catastrophe are our enemies the Maahks”. Ivsera kel’Relláan took up the conversation’s thread. “That means that anyone who has the accesses necessary to accomplish what we have seen done also must have the intelligence and education that go with such rank and such a post, and that means that this person must secretly be perfectly demented, quite apart from his or her emotional stress manifested and the enormous hate that person must bear the Gonozal family.  
The question of whether that person could act under influence or had an alien mindset from the start-“ she sent Crest a short nod-“was one our analysts discussed hotly also. We debated the possible actions of a non-Arkonath person, secretly in the employ of the Maahks, or belonging to a non-Arkonath people which would be natural allies to our enemies or which-or whose sept of which-was inimical to Arkon. The Andooz are a good example of such a circumstance, and there was a remote possibility and potential for such a factor in the equation.  
It would have answered the question of the motive, the question of “to whose’s gain?”, and was the only answer to that question any one of us could come up with.”

Cunor and Crest looked at each other and then exchanged looks with Arctamon and Tervonol. All six of the people meeting here and now had their extra brains activated and heard their comments now in their minds, and the logic sectors’ analyses must be quite unanimous.

“Gor Ranton”, Crest said heavily. “Yes, that-very remote-possibility exists indeed.”

Agreeing Tervonol da Meleyn snapped his fingers. “The Tondon is-was-based at the Planet of War essentially”, he commented. “Deployed to the Ark’Thektran and you personally, mekhon Tai Mascant. It is still inconceivable that anyone could gain access to the ship at all who was not authorized, and no person non-Arkonath had that clearance. But it is conceivable, at least to me, that such a person might use connections or secret channels; that, for example, a technician on the world of war secretly was addicted to an exotic poisonous drug and that such an alien, a Bras’cooi, supplied it to gain the accesses needed.”

Ivsera inclined her head. “We all agree”, she said with a thin smile.

“But we-our analysts, of whose conference I partook, that kind of work being my own specialty, we-came upon a curious aspect of the murders upon the Tondon, which in our opinion proves without a doubt that the one who orchestrated the whole attack and who gave the orders must be Arkonath born and bred, and whose identity might be found sooner than expected. We think we can limit down the number of suspects considerably.”

Crest and Cunor looked at one another again, sudden wild hope flaring within their eyes.

“Yes, Ivsera”, Crest breathed, leaning forward with his eyes burning. “I am listening.”

Her lips twisted. “If we look at the victims, and who each of them was, and the manner he or she was killed in-we see quite obvious symbolisms emerge.”

The Imperator raised an eyebrow but kept expectantly silent.  
Ivsera gestured.” The men and women of the Crystal Guard were gassed to overpower them swiftly, which was necessary for the assassins to ensure success. The fighting potential of the guard people was too high to attack them by means that would have enabled them to strike back. Yet, even when they were dead already, they were cut up everywhere and left lying in their blood. A most horrendous sight, we thought at first, and meant to shock and prove the assassins’ commitment to merciless savagery.  
There were but two men else upon the Tondon who were killed in a like manner, and their role-and standing-is most significant and tale-telling, I believe-Verc’athor Taneth the Captain of the ship, and Kelta sel’Kamér, the Gos’athor’s personal bodyguard.”

Crest frowned, as did Arctamon. “Kelta, of course, was Golamo and by his function a guardsman”, he slowly said. “And Taneth was a Thantan of the Crystal guard.”

“Exactly”, Mekron kel’Dermitron replied. “And when I wondered about the same matter as Ivsera reported the analysis to me, she reminded me of the oath the Crystal Guard, and the Imperial Guards, swear. Hand and heart, mind and blood, they say.”

“Oh.” The Imperator looked enlightened, as did the other listeners. “Blood as a symbol for the guardsmen, then.” 

“Yes.” Everybody tried to concentrate upon the facts and the analysis of Ivsera now and concentrated away from the cruel fact that they were talking about the manners of death the murderers had inflicted upon their victims. Kelta had died most horribly.

“Most of the crew-people but those upon the bridge were burned alive. Another most horrible death, I thought at first, and chosen only to employ different kinds of death to vary what we would see. But once we had grasped that there was symbolism in the different kinds of death to be found, we pretty swiftly hit upon the hymn of the Imperial Guard Squadron all of them belonged to- “Through the fire of your enemies, through the Ice of space we shall guard you, Mekhol Thekanth Begam, we shall fight for you and offer our lives up for yours-“ and so on. This is why that hymn is called the Song of Fire and Ice, is it not? There we would have a reason why the imperial fleeters were killed by fire. The death by Ice-them thrown out of a lock to die in space-must have looked too laborious to the murderers, who had to kill relatively swiftly, and then such a death kills immediately and doesn’t inflict pain, therefore, and moreover the dead might not have been found after by us to frighten us, drifting away from the ship in space.”

Crest took a deep breath. “I see”, he murmured. “The bridge-crew-they were all killed by needler shots that burned their brains out. Gods, my logic sector has hit upon an awfully tawdry Fleet in-joke about elite soldiers like those who served upon the Tondon’s bridge. Brain-shooters, they were called. Gods, could it be-?”

Mekron kel’Dermitron grimaced.  
“Yes, we believe so”, he answered. “And that in-joke is the first real lead to the mad leader of the assassins. The oath of the Guard and the hymn of the squadron are publicly known. But that in-joke is a fleeter particular expression and not common knowledge, and not commonly used outside of the Imperial Guard formations. We think it possible to tentatively and theoretically exclude the strict civilians who never served shipboard from our group of suspects because of that lead.”

The Imperator nodded shortly. “Good thinking, everyone”, he remarked.

“But the last two murders in two different manners of death we find most curious and significant, and also the most symbolic”, the chief of the Tu-ra-cel continued.  
“They were inflicted upon single persons, and definitely convey a meaning.”

“The Tai Kha’Laktrote Denios da Pert was strangled to death”, Mekron kel’Dermitron said. “At first the analysts could not attribute a symbol to that murder. But then it became obvious: among the other ceremonial duties which the Tai Kha’ Laktrote has at Court is his announcing the Tai moas at great occasions and events of State. There he calls his name and titles out to the audience. So you see, mekhan, mekhoi, the Voice who called the Imperator and named his name was strangled.”

“Gods.” Crest hid his face in his hands for a moment in affection while the Imperator kept a stony mien, though his eyes had begun to water with excitement.

“That, too, was a publicly known function of the Tai Kha’Laktrote”, Cunor da Gonozal remarked.

“Yes, zhdopanthi. Still, the last murder we must discuss is the most curious, and the most significant-and the one which will limit the number of suspects most efficiently.”  
Ivsera drew another deep breath.

“The lady Lesena was killed by a sonic grenade which ripped her apart and shattered her body into uncounted small fragments. It took us some time to see the significance of that method of murder. She was wearing a light green dress…”

“Hope”, Crest said in a choking voice. “She was to pointedly symbolize hope to the so stricken survivors of Solmanay battle and their relations, especially since she was pregnant herself. Hope was shattered, literally!”

“Oh-oh, Gods-“ it was Cunor now who hid his face in his hands for a moment, and the miens of Tervonol and Arctamon showed their agitation no less. 

“The symbolism was most apt, and the manner of death for her was most maliciously chosen. Yet, who could have known of this role of hers she was to play at the medal-giving after Solmanay? Very few did, of that we are sure, and will investigate closely who might have heard of it or known about it. This truly cuts down the number of suspects drastically. In the end, I believe, no more than about thirty people will be left who come into closer consideration. Our culprit might be caught swifter than he or she had thought.”

“Well done!” His Eminence da Arkon said out loud. His eyes glowed with a kind of grim hope, while Crest’s glittered dangerously, light red and unmistakeably bent upon revenge. It would be given by law, but that he personally was going to hand it out to the murderer and culprit, and with dark joy and zeal, was very clear.

“So we are faced with an undoubtedly Arkonath born person, an insider to fleet and guard and the doings and actions of your family, zhdopanthi”, Mekron kel’Dermitron summed up the situation.

“And one who is Ereinnye-bent upon inflicting maximum harm and hurt to your family and to you personally, and very cleverly ups the stakes by creating chaos as much as he or she can, on purpose to do further damage and also, I believe, to muddy up the water about his or her own identity. Knowing that with the means and accesses that person had to make use of it would be clear to us where we must look, that person has left traces and tracks for us to follow up that might confuse us. Perhaps that person still hopes to get away as well.  
Whether the hints of the ways of murder which we have followed now were left on purpose in a kind of mocking or were meant to be a private joke I cannot say. But one thing is sure, they will lead us to our culprit’s door the swifter.  
The enormous hate directed at the Gonozal family is another clue we do not miss, though as yet we cannot unravel its message. Such hate makes no sense at all; there are no enemies known to your family, zhdopanthi, who would so act upon their feelings or who would have a grudge of such an extent.  
Of course, we are dealing with a mad and at one or several points deranged person, and with such a person reason is not to be expected; it should be clear to the most dim-witted Arkonath that this whole attack is suicidal and can but end in the assassin’s arrest, and that the only ones truly served by this are our enemies the Maahks.  
So we are checking the medical records of all the suspects, look for substances one could use as drugs, look for records of changed behaviour and the like. About a hundred Service specialists and analysts are at work with the matter now; we check as swiftly and thoroughly as we can. But as yet we have not found the Yilld’s lair hidden in the sand.”

The Imperator inclined his head, aware of the fact that such checks took time. The Golamo chief smiled ironically. 

“We are even down to inquiring into the records of Metzat.”

At that ironical or wry smiles appeared all around. Everyone knew about the enmity between Gonozal and Metzat which had culminated in an assassination upon the grandest scale, killing the Tai Moas Gonozal the fourth, his Crystal Prince, and several Gonozal Princes at the same time. Yet that had been more than four thousand years ago, and ever since an uneasy truce had held between the families. Metzat had paid enormous reparations and submitted the ones responsible for the assassination three years after the deed, and had stayed loyal to Arkon and to the Imperator for those four thousand years now. There was no reason to think that that should have changed now, and neither had any scion of Metzat any reason to hold a grudge against a Gonozal.

“Moryty da Zoltral…?” Crest asked haltingly.

That was a much more recent enmity, and one with more reason for hate and emotional commitment, of course.  
But Moryty had only reaped what she had sown, and neither had the Zoltrals made any fuss about her when she committed suicide in consequence of her shame, which was a shameful deed in itself, ducking out of facing the consequences of one’s deeds, and shamed her or her family far more than ever it would have her opponents.  
She had been a youthful love of Cunor’s, Upoc’s, and Crest’s father, and there had even been talk about a betrothal. But then the Gonozal family had decided for a house alliance with Ragnaari, and with Seliya da Ragnaari Gonozal the sixth, personally named Mallacen, had had a very good and wise Imperatrix and had done much better with her than ever he would have with Moryty da Zoltral who was only good at making enemies and working at bitter intrigue. Added to that she had been a very haughty person who had never become reconciled to the fact that she had had to marry Maylosh ta-Ghirmo and had never ceased to make trouble till she had whipped up an intrigue so awful that she was faced with consequences harder than she thought she could bear them, exile to a far-away planet with the order to never come back to Arkon.  
Zoltral had silently put her in her grave and continued to maintain very good relations with da Gonozal. Ghirmo, of course, the small affiliated house, had been bitter but were harshly confronted with the fact that they should have controlled the woman who had become their daughter and should stay head down because if any fault lay anywhere it had lain with Moryty and her fool of a husband who had abetted her actions instead of stopping her.

So there had been quiet upon that end of affairs. Could Moryty’s son-or her daughter-have started something now?

Ivsera kel’Relláan flipped back her hand.

“No, ta-moas zhdopanda, the Ghirmos are under close observation and always have been for the sake of the security of the Imperial Family, as you well know and as do they, and if anything had stirred at that end we would have noticed it Votani ago.”

She sighed. “What is also clear is the fact that this was, of course, not the deed of a single man or woman.  
The actual attack and the murders were committed by at least fifty persons, if not more, and needed a good ship to travel and fight in. That a single Khasurn easily could provide, but then where are the witnesses and abettors in that Khasurn, and the affiliated men, one of whom at least would talk? No. The ones working with our assassin must be radicals or separatists, or colonists who are much disaffected with the central government, people who have no understanding of the overall political-and, more to the point, the military situation of the Tai Ark’Tussan.  
We are keeping close records of the relevant scene, politically radical or criminal circles, and believe that we have not overlooked any signs. It seems that whichever group is responsible for the attack upon the TONDON is totally new upon the stage and might even be directed from the Bench, but by whom? That we are still investigating.  
Then there is the game they are obviously playing, which undoubtedly is the Hostage game.”

She took a deep breath. “We are waiting for a first communiqué at every khela, but as yet the radio has been silent. Of course, with the spiteful hate directed at the Imperial family in this whole action, we would be right to surmise that that part of the Game will be protracted also to create maximum anxiousness and fear for the eminent Gos athor’s life and condition.”

Crest compressed his lips and only snapped his fingers. His face had become quite pale, having to listen to this.

“But what, we ask, is the use of the hostage game at all?” Mekron took up the Services’ report and analysis again.

“One engenders such an action to force and blackmail a family, to get one’s demands fulfilled and wishes met-but how would they get any such high-ranking ally into their pocket and influence, and how would they escape retaliation? Worlds and stations would have the fleet on top within the prago. Only someone who has nothing to lose or even to gain if the Gos athor da Arkon dies, and who can avoid and flee the retaliation of Arkon and you, zhdopanthi, can afford to play the hostage game successfully. This must be a group that has demands that can be fulfilled without the gains being threatened to be taken away after again. It cannot be a case, either, to remove the Crystal Prince himself because he is seen as a danger to someone. For that, he is too young, and simply killing him would have sufficed to gain that goal. No.  
The Maahks would be the only ones to gain overall with these scenarios. Even the criminal circles we know of like the Sentenza, the Ark’alor, or the Mivado Ring have lain lower of late-what could they wish for, and gain, to stage such a theatre play of murder, now with the situation in the war as it is which threatens them no less than every law-abiding citizen?  
A putsch is impossible. Who would accept anyone who had gained the throne this way? No, again. It all simply doesn’t make sense and still cannot be attributed to anyone but a madman who is the instigator and on his own has made contact with a hitherto unknown bunch of radicals with unknown and surely absolutely illogical goals.”

“I agree.” The Imperator’s voice was cool and firm. “To sum up your analysis upon families inimical to Gonozal, or at odds with us, or wanting something very badly of the Khasurn-which would add up to but Orcast or Ghirmo-it doesn’t make sense either! Mathamnara da Orcast is perfectly capable of using this catastrophe for her ends and has already started to do so, as you have just told us. In the last consequence, she surely is trying to get Thyri da Fhalmakir out of the way of her plans, hoping to get me to marry Althrita, but there is no reason to believe she would go at my whole Khasurn or at Crest or his wife, or his wife’s sister Merikana, as it has been done with my nephew’s nurse killed in this way. Neither would she ever go at the whole of Arkon like this only to gain her wishes. For that Orcast is too loyal to Arkon, and if that susse-thrai or her shalluc husband had decided that Atlan is in the way and they would have dared to act, they would have had him killed, not abducted! No, at that end I do not see any probability either.  
Weakening the Gonozal Khasurn, and hurting us like this who are the Imperial Khasurn this time round, would not make sense if she wants us for allies, and it would be a perfectly redundant action! It would be enough to have me marry Althrita to take Atlan out of the way of Mathamnara’s and Ramorors’ plans to become the grandparents of the new Imperator.”

They all turned their wrists in agreement. There wasn’t anything else to be said about this part of the matter.

“What happens when the public gets to know?” Arctamon da Quertamagin asked into the silence.

“If that abduction becomes known the majority of our peoples will close ranks and support us as much as they can if this is handled well.”

Crest, the spokesman of the Gonozal family to the media, inclined his head when everyone looked at him.

“I believe that we will be able to handle this well enough”, he murmured. Only the absolute pallor of his face betrayed his deep anxiousness and the fact that he most likely was near to collapsing. But he held on to self-control and discipline with an iron Dagor grip.

Tervonol, the military strategist, spoke up.

“But for some others-if the abduction becomes publicly known, won’t that be the start for a free-for-all among the criminals and fanatics, the radicals, trying to get the prize, that is, our Gos athor, into their various hands, respective their claws? From what I know from fleet reports that might become the case very swiftly. That, then, is our chance to flush all the brekkars and shallucs out of the system and see them wriggling in the sudden puddle!  
We will only have to pick them up then, and somewhere there might be a lead hanging free that might show us the way to our radical group. As bitter an attack as this is, we could make use of it. Set all the vermin against each other! Flush the sandworms out from under their stones! Confusion to the enemy!”

Sharp and cold smiles answered that somewhat enthusiastic outburst. But Crest had something to put into consideration as well in this matter.

“There is, of course, a very great hazard and danger involved in the public getting to know of this catastrophe, at least when that information becomes more detailed, as the media will demand them from us. What happens when-not if!-the Maahks get to hear? That’s a danger which is very real and intimidating, to me. They, too, might try to get my son into their stinking claws, and then, my friends, we are in for a real round of the hostage game played upon a real board. I shudder even to think of it.”

The shaking breath which the Tai Mascant took revealed to the listeners how affected he truly was. In compassion and understanding, the Imperator laid his hand upon his brother’s shoulder.

“Of course that aspect of the whole affair is not new to our thoughts and deliberations. Yagthara my wife is not well at all right now, and neither am I! She has even called for Yoner-madrul Theran and has had him sedate her for a few tontas to deal with the stress and the torrent of emotions she is afflicted with, and I must say, this way out at least for a few tontas sounded most appealing to me also. But working-and taking action-is the better way to help myself, I believe.”

He stopped and then spoke on in that cold and firm voice he had used the whole conference through before.

“So we worry deeply about the Maahks hearing of this. But how can we avoid that? That’s simply not possible, and, moreover, at the Ark’Thektran we have had evidence of late of a possible leak in our fleet communications. They have reacted to our maneuvers too swiftly and precisely in some cases lately as if they had known of our plans in advance. Whether this is the bungling of an operator or real treason we know not-not yet, but the fact is there that the Maahks know a lot of what goes on in Fleet Communications. Of course, we have changed codes and all that.  
But as you know- within the fleet rumours travel swifter than hyper-radio, and the chance that somewhere something slips out of the net is to be expected.  
Making all of this public knowledge and so gain our people’s trust and support is much better than trying to hush up anything that anyway will become known sooner or later. All we can do now is to make use of this catastrophe as much as we can, flushing out vermin and catching some of them, getting the peoples of the Tai Ark’Tussan to close ranks the more and keep our nerves. That the Services are on full alert everywhere we know; and also that the extremists will not do any harm to my son, or they’d spoil their own game. If they had wanted Atlan dead they could have killed him with the others upon the TONDON.”

What the Tai Mascant forewent to mention, of course, was the fact that a madman was involved, whose actions might not have anything to do with logic or any use others might have of the Gos athor’s continued existence.

“Yes. We will ask the public for their help, and perhaps that will be of more use than we think now”, the Imperator said and concluded the conference. Only the various tasks to be done had to be decided upon now and had to be distributed. But that was work for the various heads-of-staffs.

Side by side Cunor da Gonozal and Crest his brother went back to the latter’s apartment to see how Yagthara did.  
But she was still asleep, a pale puppet in her bed, while Merikana who watched at her bedside stared ahead of herself and barely could be spoken to. Tremulously she asked to be let alone for another few tontas, please, and was obeyed immediately. Her companion of love, Kashtran ta-Emton the economist was away from Arkon at the time for a conference at Zhygor and would return home only in about three pragos.

In the small salon, Upoc tec’Gonozal awaited his brothers. He looked to be tired and worn-out and greeted Cunor and Crest with a weary smile.

“Mother is absolutely furious with us”, he said abruptly in lieu of a more formal greeting.

“I have spoken with her but a tonta ago. She says that we have pushed the boy too much, have forgotten he is a child and without any consideration have pushed him into taking up work he actually was too young for. She asked me what would have become of him now with him having had to see all this. She is most angry at all three of us for having agreed to this scheme and decision to keep up pressure upon Atlan, having him stay the only child of the family, and making a target of him.”

“Gods, Mathrenna spare us.” Cunor sighed wearily and pushed back his hair in a gesture that looked defeated.

“I have heard her on that topic several times, and never have deigned to listen, and now-now I see that she has had a point. Several points.” 

He sighed again and threw himself into an easy chair. Of course, he knew that their mother’s fury was directed at him first and mostly because he was the one who could order his brothers and who had the ultimate responsibility for this hazardous Khasurn scheme, which nevertheless up to now had paid off so well. It also had enabled Upoc to live as he would, sparing him from duties of the state and letting him pursue the career of a composer and musician and an Escanth, and let him live happily with a woman who absolutely was not befitting the status of the man second in family rank only to the Tai moas da Tai Ark’tussan himself, a woman whom he insisted to be his Acknowledged Companion instead of a Mayth’ Dol Fam he had no true obligations to.

“What did she say?” the Imperator asked tiredly. He knew his brother could give him their mother’s words verbatim with the help of his logic sector and the photographic memory they all had in consequence.

“Quote: You have set him up as a target and have knowingly taken the risk, and do not tell me that you did never think of things like these now happening! The Gods tailor the punishment to the offender’s size, don’t they?  
And now the weal of the whole Khasurn is in jeopardy, and you face the consequences of your hard-headed stupidity- and the stupidity of my late husband, may the Gods keep him! I loved him, and he was clever and wise too, but this alliance with Orcast is near becoming our downfall! Not that I blame Cunor in principle for sticking to Thyri-we all know why, and politically he is absolutely right. But you, Upoc, are sadly missing your duties to the Khasurn, selfishly living a life only to please yourself, and Crest has only this one boy-Yagthara could have had three more children by now if you hadn’t decided upon that hare-brained scheme to forge and hone the ultimate Sword to destroy the Maahks! For the Gods’sakes, Atlan is but almost twelve, and you train him ceaselessly like a Dagor master and a fighting soldier and an active politician-not to speak of these terrible Rooms you bully and maul him with and where he comes out of bruised and battered-the Crystal Prince of Arkon, Zelathrol have mercy, treated and trained and put through the treadmill like a common Serviceman! But all of that aside, son, its Cunor and you and Crest who have decided and who think yourself so clever while Yagthara has acquiesced and agreed also, fool she. She will understand better by now! But it is your poor nephew who has to face the music now, who has had to witness those terrible murders, who is suffering the Gods know what right at the moment, alone and helpless in the hands of monsters. What does all that training and knowledge stuffed into his head help him now, locked into some dreary cell, perhaps even being harassed or tormented? Gods, Gods, I could howl and scream and weep about where Cunor’s stupidity and obstinacy, and yours, and Crest’s, has put my only grandson. Do any of you clever schemers and proud psychologists ever think of Atlan himself, of him as a person and not as the Gos athor, of the boy who is not yet twelve and should be playing with his friends and be allowed to horse around freely and without restraints?  
He found himself a nook and some relief with his pranks where he still was a child, which was why I always defended him and was lenient with him. But now, but now-what will have become of him if ever we get him back home in one piece, after what he has seen and been put through, you fool? Has Cunor in his damnable pride ever thought of what he did to his nephew who is but a child, or Crest who went so blithely along with his brother, what his son is putting up with for his sake and the love he bears his father?”

“Gods”, Crest was whimpering, hiding his face in his hands, sitting in his chair tucked up like a man who had received a most painful strike right into his stomach. “Oh Gods, mother-Atlan-“

With both shock and compassionate understanding, and a terrible feeling of guilt his brothers heard Crest tec’Gonozal’s hard self-control give way at last in his dry and desperate sobbing. Gods, their mother was right-she had been right all along. He had failed his son and had failed to protect him as he should have, instead of that putting a load upon the boy’s shoulders that was almost too heavy. And now Atlan was indeed facing the music his father had carelessly invited to be played, was standing what he, his father, was responsible for with his carelessness. Gods! Gods-

His brothers laid their arms around his shoulders, sitting down upon the sofa at his sides. The reproaches Crest was berating himself with did not have to be repeated or even mentioned by them, not even for the sake of denial. He had proudly acquiesced and agreed, even approved of the Imperator’s plans about his nephew, who was his son-Arkon’s need was great, and it needed the Sword the boy was becoming most dearly, no, desperately. But now his son was out there, walking that Sword’s edge-and this time it was not Love that walked both worlds, but a harsh and terrible Testing the Gods had put upon him, and his family. 

“The fault is all mine”, Cunor said softly. “We know what, and why, and why this plan of mine still has its merits and its reasons. Arkon’s needs which we all serve, as does Atlan, came first and are paramount. But these consequences now none of us have foreseen. This is a most terrible Testing for all of us, and for Atlan first-“

“Yes.” Crest took a deep breath and tried to regain control over his feelings, being able to speak again, though his voice was still shaky. “Yet I agreed, and so did Upoc, and all three of us have had to sacrifice a lot. But we saw the merits which outweighed the sacrifices, Gods-it was our plan, Cunor, and not your sole fault at all. But Gods, Atlan-  
Atlan’s walking the Edge of the Sword indeed now. The Dagor masters tell us that such experiences are what make true masters out of us, those who really walk in both worlds.  
But Atlan’s just a boy, he isn’t even twelve yet, he hasn’t given his Oath yet, and he has had such terrible experiences already, has witnessed these murders, was dragged along and abducted-in what state of mind and heart and soul must my boy be now, Zelathrol have mercy? Oh, Gods-“

Tears ran from Crest’s eyes again as he tried to imagine how his son must feel right now.

“Adult soldiers and trained Golamo agents have had to undergo trauma therapy for weeks after like experiences, after far less terrible sights, I know that”, he whispered. “Atlan will be changed for life. What will all of this make of him? What will he be like when I may take him into my arms again?”

His brothers had no answer for him. But perhaps their mother had-

“Mother said-“Upoc had to swallow-“Mother said that she was praying for her grandson day and night, and so should we. She said that she had asked Zhymelesa to be with him and light his way during this Testing. No-one can help Atlan, and all of us, better now than the gods themselves, and perhaps they will grant us mercy. I will go to the Tai Mirkan Huhany tonight to pray for Atlan too, and perhaps you would both like to come with me-?”

Wordlessly Crest tec’Gonozal inclined his head, and so did the Imperator.


End file.
